


Effective Stress-Relief for a Submissive Alpha

by halcyon1993



Series: The Kinky Adventures of a Wolf and His Boy [32]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Alpha Derek Hale, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Barebacking, Blindfolds, Bottom Derek Hale, Butt Plugs, Cock Slut Derek Hale, Crossdressing, Dom Stiles Stilinski, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Hairy Derek Hale, Hand & Finger Kink, Kneeling, Light Bondage, Lingerie, M/M, Panties, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Coital Cuddling, Praise Kink, Riding, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sounding, Spanking, Sub Derek Hale, Subspace, Top Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 17:16:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15999761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halcyon1993/pseuds/halcyon1993
Summary: After a particularly stressful day of having to play the part of the strong alpha, Derek comes home to Stiles and needs not to be in control, not to have to think about anything. Stiles, perfect mate and Dom that he is, gives him what he needs.





	Effective Stress-Relief for a Submissive Alpha

**Author's Note:**

> As always with this series, don't judge me for the depravity I have written…
> 
> This is a sequel to a previous PWP of mine, _[The Prettiest Alpha](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15604452)_. You don't have to have read that for this to make sense, but I'd recommend checking it out anyway. It's good, if I do say so myself. ;)

As he trudges toward the sliding door of his loft, Derek doesn't remember being this worn out in a long, long time. Maybe years. Today was not a good day. Everybody in his pack seemed to need something from him, and nothing he did to help them went right. It was just frustration after frustration, and getting a flat tyre on his way home was the icing on the shittiest cake in the world. His only consolations are that his phone is now blissfully silent, and, from the Jeep parked outside and the fast heartbeat coming from inside the loft, he knows that Stiles is here.

Hopefully the rest of his day will go a lot better.

Derek enters the loft, slides the door closed and moves over to the sofas. Stiles' laptop is open on the coffee table, but the nineteen-year-old himself isn't present. Derek uses his ears and hears him in the kitchen. Needing to see him, Derek follows the banging of pans and the smell of tomatoes and spices. He finds Stiles standing at the counter putting the finishing touches on a dish of lasagne.

Stiles looks to his left and grins at him. "Hey, Sourwolf."

Just that grin is enough to have some of the tension bleeding from Derek's body. "Hey."

"Hard day, huh?"

How Stiles can tell that just from looking at him is lost on Derek, but he is glad that he doesn't have to bring it up himself. "Yeah."

Stiles puts the lasagne in the oven and then walks over to where Derek stands in the doorway. He cups his face and rests their foreheads together tenderly. "D'you need it tonight?"

Derek exhales shakily and nods. "I think so."

"Alright, Sourwolf." Stiles kisses him chastely and gives him a gentle push back toward the main space of the loft. His countenance still holds affection for Derek—it always does—but his stance is now stronger and there is an authority in his eyes that Derek's inner submissive responds to immediately. When Stiles speaks, his voice drips with the same authority, leaving no room for argument: "Go have a shower, we'll eat when dinner is ready, and then I'll see how I can help you unwind."

"Yes, Sir."

The name rolls easily off Derek's tongue. Following orders comes easily too, far more than giving them does. Already he feels more of the stress of the day leaving him as he walks into the bathroom, shuts the door behind himself and starts stripping out of his clothes. He dumps them in the laundry hamper and switches on the shower.

After checking that the temperature is right, Derek steps beneath the spray. The hammering of hundreds of tiny drops of hot water on his skin is soothing. He stands there for a few minutes doing nothing, just enjoying the sensation, before he gets on with washing himself with his favourite shower gel—sandalwood. He takes his time, making sure that every inch of his body is squeaky-clean for whatever his Dom has no doubt already planned for their evening. It'll probably be something yellow from their list. They still have a lot of different things to try.

Derek recalls the day he'd come home and found Stiles poring over several pieces of paper on the middle sofa, red marker pen in hand, the cap between his teeth. It was the very next day after their first time together. At first, Derek thought the teenager was maybe proofreading an essay for one of his college classes or something, but then Stiles called him closer and he got a look at what was on the papers. Stiles explained some of it too, told Derek that he'd found a blank BDSM contract online and used it as a guideline to make their own.

"If we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it right, Sourwolf," Stiles told him, handing over the papers and three marker pens; one red, one yellow and one green. "Read this over."

Derek did so. The first sheet of paper detailed the terms of the dom/sub part of their relationship. They wouldn't live full-time in the lifestyle. It would only happen when Derek felt like he needed it. He was fine with that. The rest of the papers were filled with so many different kinks and acts and ideas for scenes that they made Derek's head spin.

Some of them were already crossed out in red marker, Stiles' hard limits:

Blood play.

Knife play.

Any bodily waste.

Derek agreed that they wouldn't be doing any of that.

There were two bullet points for exhibitionism, one crossed out and one not, which had confused him. Stiles explained to him that the one he'd crossed out was the more performative one, which would have entailed them scening with an audience. The one he'd left up to Derek was the one they'd do in private, like if Stiles wanted to sit back and have Derek put on a show just for him.

Derek agreed with those too.

All in all, it took them a little over an hour to go through everything. Together they crossed out the bullet points Derek definitely didn't want with red marker. In yellow marker they made stars next to the bullet points they both wanted to try at least once, and they circled the ones they knew they definitely liked with green marker. As it was all so new, there were more yellow stars than anything else, but it gave them a good starting point. After that, they both signed the bottom of the last page with a regular black pen, finalising their first dom/sub contract.

The anticipation of something new makes Derek's heart beat faster, has him finishing up in the shower a bit quicker than he usually would.

When he exits the bathroom with a towel around his waist, he sees that Stiles is now sitting on the bed, back against the headboard, book open in one hand. Atop the sheets on Derek's side, the human has laid out a set of lingerie, which Derek knows he is supposed to put on without having to ask. He walks over to the bed, drops his towel and, under Stiles' watchful gaze, he steps into the pair of pale-pink panties Stiles picked from his substantial collection and pulls them up his muscular legs. It takes a moment for Derek to get them to sit right on his hips, his efforts hampered by the fact that he is half-hard, but he manages and moves on to the matching stockings. Once those are on as well, he looks at Stiles for further instruction.

"Come here, Sourwolf," the nineteen-year-old says, holding out his free hand.

Derek comes willingly. He climbs into the bed and is directed to lie down on his front across Stiles' lap. His half-hard dick turns into a full erection when it comes into contact with Stiles' thigh, but he knows better than to try to chase any friction. He pillows his head on his crossed arms and relaxes when Stiles put his free hand on his panty-covered ass, stroking slowly back and forth over his round cheeks. It's erotic, of course—Stiles' touch is always erotic to him—but Derek knows that Stiles' touch isn't meant to arouse him further, to tease or anything like that. It's simply a way to ground him, and a way for Stiles to reestablish his claim over Derek's ass.

The claim is the thing that has Derek relaxing the most, knowing that he belongs to Stiles, that Stiles will take care of him and make everything better.

He drifts for a while. Like this, he doesn't have to think about anything. Usually his brain is filled by endless thoughts and concerns and he has real trouble switching off, but whenever Stiles takes control of him like this with nothing more than a few commands and soft touches, Derek very easily lets go.

Outside of their loft, Derek's life hasn't changed much. It's been just over two months since they made their first contract, and apart from knowing that they are together, he doesn't think anyone else suspects what is really going on. That's just the way Derek likes it. Outside of the loft, or when someone else is there, Derek is still a 'normal' alpha.

'Normal' is a word that Stiles would spank him for using if he knew, because since they started this he has been adamant that Derek believe there is nothing abnormal about what he needs. It's tough to alter his thought processes, but Derek is learning. As far as anyone else knows, he is the strong alpha, ever in control. He is the person his betas look to for support and advice, even as terrible as he is at giving it.

But whenever he and Stiles are alone together? Derek is Stiles' to do with as he pleases.

"Dinner's ready," the human tells him softly, setting his book aside.

Derek blinks sluggishly. It doesn't feel like any time has passed to him at all, he'd been so out of it. It takes a moment for him to bring his brain back online, but Stiles is patient with him. His Dom keeps rubbing over his ass and doesn't try to move until Derek pushes himself up so that he is no longer lying across his lap. His dick is still hard.

"Time to get that belly full," Stiles grins at him, rubbing said belly and ruffling the fine hairs on Derek's abs.

Derek blushes when, as if on command, his stomach rumbles.

A minute later, Stiles has got the lasagne served up onto two plates. He takes them over to the sofa and puts one plate on the floor before he sits down on the sofa with his own.

Without having to be told, Derek knows where his place is. He kneels in the space between the sofa and coffee table and eats slowly, his shoulder pressed to Stiles' leg. Some might find the position degrading, that Derek is acting like a dog or something, but that isn't the case at all. In spite of Stiles' propensity for making dog jokes about the werewolves in his life, having Derek kneel when they play is just another way to assert his dominance. It's another way for Derek to give up control, to prove that he can obey and be a good boy. And when he is in this headspace, nothing makes his chest light up and all of his worries melt away like knowing he has been Stiles' good boy.

Stiles switches on the TV and together they watch some random reality show while they eat dinner. It's just background noise to Derek. When he has finished, he waits patiently with his empty plate balanced on his knees until Stiles finishes as well and stacks his own on top of Derek's.

"Go wash those up while I get a few things ready, Sourwolf," the human instructs, brushing his hand across Derek's shoulder.

The alpha nearly trips over himself in his haste to obey, his superhuman reflexes the only things that prevent him from dropping the plates to the floor. He hears the mellifluous sound of Stiles' laughter following him as he makes his way to the kitchen. The old Derek wouldn't have liked that sound, would've read all sorts of negative things into it, like maybe Stiles was making fun of him. But now he knows that Stiles doesn't mean anything bad by it and shares a bashful smile with the human before he walks through the kitchen doorway and Stiles is out of sight.

While he waits for the hot tap to heat up and then washes the dishes in the sink, Derek keeps an ear out for what his Dom is doing in the main space of the loft. He shouldn't be trying to guess, but he can't help it. He is just so curious about the plans that Stiles could have for him tonight. Goosebumps break out across his skin as he puts the clean plates in the drying rack.

Back in the main space, Derek is met right away by a grinning Stiles.

"Turn around," the human says.

Derek does so, and a second later his vision is obscured by something. He reaches up to touch it and deduces that it's a velvet blindfold. When did Stiles get it?

Almost like he is reading his thoughts, his Dom leans in close behind him and says, "Some new toys arrived today, and this was one of them. We're gonna check off a few things. Colour?"

"G-green, Sir," Derek stammers, the feeling of Stiles' breath on his ear seeming even more intense without his sight.

"Good boy."

Stiles turns Derek around and leads him back over to the sofa. He hears something hit the floor with a soft _whump_.

"Okay, back down you go. Sitting properly this time."

Trusting his Dom, Derek sits and finds that the sound he heard was Stiles dropping a cushion where he had knelt during dinner. When he is situated comfortably, he senses Stiles move around him to sit back down on the sofa, but in a different spot this time. Whereas before Stiles had been on the end of the sofa and Derek had knelt in front of the middle cushion, Stiles sits right next to Derek now, his feet on either side of him. Derek knows this game, but he waits until he is told to move again, for Stiles to help him turn around to face him and rest his head on the inside of his thigh.

"There you go, just relax and drift for a while, okay?"

"Yes, Sir."

He hears the rustling of pages as Stiles continues to read his book. Derek disappears inside the soothing emptiness of his own head again and goes even deeper this time, helped along when, after a few minutes, Stiles starts running his long fingers through his hair.

God, Derek could write poetry about Stiles' hands and fingers, and he doesn't even like poetry. He swiftly descends into his happy place, just focusing on how Stiles' fingers feel in his hair, the way his short nails scratch just right across his scalp every now and then. Derek could very easily fall asleep like this and he doesn't think anyone would be able to blame him. The only thing that prevents it is his close proximity to Stiles' crotch. It's a faint smell right now, but the scent of his Dom's sex is enough to keep him in the land of the living, to keep his cock hard in the pouch of his panties, tenting it out, for as long as Stiles wants him sitting where he is.

Derek doesn't know how much time has gone by when he stops hearing the occasional flipping of pages and Stiles' fingers leave his hair. He makes a confused noise but doesn't lift his head yet.

"You've been so good for me so far tonight," Stiles tells him, cupping his cheek with a hand.

Derek's chest fills with warmth at the praise and he can't help but smile shyly.

"In fact, you've been so good that I'm not gonna make you wait anymore. Come up here."

Stiles helps Derek to get up on the sofa so that he is straddling him, supporting himself by placing his hands on Stiles' surprisingly broad shoulders. He is far enough back on Stiles' thighs that he can't feel if he is hard or not, but his own erection must be incredibly obvious, his dick straining against the lace and silk, dampening it with his pre-come. He hears Stiles chuckle and cup him with one hand.

"Someone's excited, huh?" the human teases.

"Sir…"

"Shh, be patient. I promise it'll be worth it. Okay?"

"Y-yes, Sir."

"Good. Now, give me your hands."

Derek does so and gasps when he feels the leather cuffs Stiles had bought him a couple months ago being secured around his wrists. A few seconds later Stiles pulls both of his hands behind his back and attaches the cuffs to each other. Derek starts to feel dizzy, so the cuffs must be lined with wolfsbane again.

"Colour?"

"Still green, Sir."

"Good. Don't forget to tell me if that changes."

Stiles strokes his hands up and down Derek's thighs, over the thin material of his stockings. "Do you want me to tell you what I'm gonna do to you tonight?"

Derek nods jerkily. "Uh-huh."

"Well, like I said before, I've got some new toys to use on you." Derek hears rustling and the clinking of metal and then Stiles speaks again. "Can you guess what this is?"

Startling when whatever metal object Stiles got out is dragged down his chest, over his nipples, Derek shakes his head. He was already too far gone to think clearly enough to come up with a guess, and the coolness of the metal doesn't help matters. "I don't know, Sir."

"I'll give you a hint, then."

Stiles moves the metal down until it is pressed to the head of his panty-covered cock. "Can you guess now?"

"Uhh…" Derek resists thrusting against the metal. An idea pops into his head, one of the bullet points they'd marked with a yellow star. "Maybe."

"Well? What do you think it is?"

"A…a sound, Sir?"

Stiles chuckles. "Very good. I'm gonna put this in your piss slit tonight, stimulate all those nerves endings you never knew even existed. Sound good?"

Derek nods ardently. "So good, Sir."

"I'm glad. But before we get to that…"

The metal disappears and a few seconds later Derek holds still as Stiles pulls down the back of his panties and cups his bare ass cheeks, one finger dipping into the crack to brush over his hole.

"You get yourself nice and clean for me?" Stiles murmurs, breath disturbing Derek's chest hair.

"Yes, Sir," the werewolf confirms. "Everywhere."

"Good boy."

Stiles' hands leave his hairy cheeks, but they come back quickly. The Dom pulls his Sub's cheeks apart with one hand and without warning slides two slick fingers into his hole. Derek gasps and pushes back against them, wanting them deeper, to be filled more, but his Dom doesn't give it to him. Stiles bites down once on his nipple, hard, and chides him for moving, which is enough for Derek to stop trying to get more and go rigid in his Dom's lap.

"Better," Stiles says. "You just stay there and let me get you ready, okay? No being greedy and moving before I tell you to."

Derek whines disappointedly but capitulates. "Okay. Sorry, Sir…"

Stiles kisses his nipple to soothe the ache and resumes fingering him, stretching Derek's tight little hole. It doesn't take long for him to loosen it enough to slip a third finger inside. Since their first time together, when Stiles tied him to the bed and made love to him, Derek has got used to having things inside of his ass. He is never left empty for more than a couple days before Stiles gets that gleam in his eyes that promises sex. Before they got together, Derek never entertained the thought that he would love anal play, that he would be nearly desperate to have his ass stuffed with Stiles' fingers, his tongue, his cock. Since they got together, Derek has only topped once, and even then Stiles was in complete control, pressing him down into the mattress while he rode him all night. He doesn't miss topping as much as he thought he would.

"You like that, don't you?" Stiles asks him, his train of thought obviously the same. "Your ass is so wonderfully needy."

Derek pulls against his restraints, but the wolfsbane makes him weak enough that he can't break out of them. "Sir…"

"Shh, just keep being my good boy and stay still."

It's difficult, but Derek does as he is told. Stiles keeps his fingers in Derek's hole for another minute, not really trying to stretch him out anymore but simply playing, stroking over his inner walls and curling his fingers to tug lightly on his rim. Eventually he withdraws the long digits and leaves Derek feeling unbearably empty. Luckily, he isn't left that way for long.

"Here's another one of your new toys," Stiles tells him, nudging something cold at his stretched rim.

"What is it?" Derek asks.

"It's a plug. Gonna keep your ass nice and full while we have other fun. Colour?"

Derek takes a shuddering breath before answering. "Green."

A second later, he fights to stop himself from tensing up as Stiles starts to push the plug inside. The first bit slides in without any trouble, but when they get to the widest part Derek has to take a few deep breaths to relax enough to let it slip inside. His hole clenches up once the widest part is in, clamped tight around the base. From how cold and unremittingly hard it is, Derek guesses that the plug is made of metal. Maybe stainless steel.

Stiles caresses his thighs again while he gets used to the feeling.

"Wish I could see it," the human murmurs. "It's got a pink rhinestone on the base. I bet it makes your hole look even prettier."

Derek whimpers as he imagines it, how it would match the panties and stockings he has on.

Stiles voice is full of amusement as he asks, "You're thinking about it too, aren't you?"

"Y-yeah…"

"Maybe I'll take a picture next time so that you can see it, but only if you keep being good for me."

Derek curls his hands into fists at his back. "I will…I'll be good."

"I know you will. You haven't misbehaved yet."

Once Derek has got used the plug, Stiles pulls the back of his panties back up to cover his ass and pulls the front down instead, tucking it beneath Derek's full balls. The alpha moans when Stiles takes his cock in hand.

"So hard for me, aren't you?" the human says, his voice dripping with lust. He pulls back Derek's foreskin and fingers the head. "You ready for this to be filled up too?"

Derek just barely refrains from fucking forward in Stiles' grip. "Yes, Sir."

"I don't know if you'd be affected by anything anyway, but to be safe I've already disinfected the sounds I'll be using on you."

"T-thank you, Sir."

"You're welcome, Sourwolf. Now keep holding still while I get the sound ready."

Derek takes a breath and listens closely as Stiles fiddles with something he has on the sofa cushion next to him. He hears him unscrewing a cap and then something squirting out—lube, he presumes—and then Stiles takes hold of his cock again, angling it the way he wants.

"Sit back completely and get comfortable. You're gonna be here for a while."

Tentatively, Derek sits down properly on Stiles' lap. His thighs thank him for giving them a break.

"I'm gonna start now. If at any point you want me to stop, just use your safeword. You understand?"

"I understand." Derek braces himself. "I'll say 'red' if I want to stop."

"Good boy. Okay, here we go."

Derek jerks slightly when he feels the slick tip of the sound touch his slit, but he catches himself before his body moves too much. He makes himself still again and bites into his bottom lip almost hard enough to draw blood when Stiles slides the first inch of the sound into his urethra. The sensation is at first not very comfortable. It's not outright _un_ comfortable, and it definitely doesn't hurt, but Derek isn't sure he likes it. Still, they have only just begun, so he tells himself that he'll give it a proper go before he decides to bring an end to this part of their evening.

"You have no idea how hot you look right now, Sourwolf," Stiles says, his voice awed. "Your hands bound behind your back, hairy chest thrust out, nipples hard and suckable, pretty panties and stockings on, cock hard and about to be stuffed full like your needy little hole already is… Feels like I could come just from looking at you."

Derek whines and brings his chin to his chest, finding it difficult to breathe as another inch of the sound slides inside his cock.

"Just you wait. This is just the smallest sound in the set. If you like this, there's a bunch of bigger ones that I plan on using on you another time."

 _Oh God,_ Derek thinks as Stiles keeps feeding the thin piece of metal into his slit. If this is how the thinnest sound feels, then how the hell is he going to deal with the thicker ones? The thought almost makes Derek panic, but then he feels more of the sound slide inside and it hits something past the base of his cock that sets off fireworks behind his eyelids.

"Ah, there it is!" Derek can picture the smirk on Stiles' lips. "That feels good, doesn't it?"

While he is still unsure of the sound itself, Derek has to admit that whatever Stiles just did rocked his world. "Yeah. What…?"

"What was that?"

Derek nods, unable to speak a proper sentence.

"Well, a little anatomy lesson here that I actually didn't know before I did research into this, but the male urethra goes right through the prostate. According to most of the BDSM forums and stuff I looked up, that's a lot of the reason why some guys enjoy having this done to them."

"Oh…"

"Want more?"

Derek nods again. "Yes, please, Sir."

"Mmm, I love that you're so polite."

Derek shudders when Stiles starts to withdraw the sound from his cock. The sensation of that cool metal sliding back out is just as strange as it had been going in, but when Stiles puts it back in and the end of the sound passes over his prostate, for a second it feels to Derek like he is coming. He doesn't produce any semen—he doubts any could seep out around the sound anyway—and the pleasure fades much quicker than an actual orgasm, so Derek is sure he didn't actually come, but the feeling was just as overwhelming. He shifts in Stiles' lap, searching for more pleasure, but his Dom grips his hip tightly with the hand not holding the other end of the sound.

"No moving," Stiles admonishes. "Stay still, Sourwolf."

With a disappointed whine, Derek does so. "Sir…"

"I know you want more, but be patient. It feels good, but at the end of the day I've still got a metal rod up your dick. It would be very easy to damage something important if you don't listen to me."

When Stiles puts it that way, Derek promises himself that he won't move out of turn again—not only because he doesn't want to have to go to Alan Deaton and explain just how he managed to get injured down there, but because he doesn't want to disappoint his Dom.

After another few minutes of Stiles teasing him with the sound, pulling it out maybe an inch or so before dropping it back in, Derek is getting desperate. It's like the best and the worst sensations at the same time, the feeling of an orgasm without the afterglow that usually follows. He can tell that his skin is glistening all over with sweat. It drips down his forehead and soaks into the blindfold still obscuring his vision, drips down his heaving chest to run in rivulets in the dips between his abdominal muscles.

Every time Derek clenches his inner muscles, his hole tightening around the plug and his cock jerking in Stiles' grip, it just gets worse and worse, a dual assault on his prostate from two different angles. He is close to screaming to get out his frustration when, suddenly, Stiles removes the sound entirely. Derek throws his head back with a gasp and thinks he really _is_ coming this time, but nothing shoots out of his cock, so…nope. Still no orgasm.

"Alright, Sourwolf, I think it's time I give us what we both want, hmm?" Stiles says, sounding annoyingly calm. God damn him. "Sound good?"

"That depends, Sir. What…what do we both want?" Derek asks.

Stiles reaches around Derek and squeezes his cheeks through his panties, the tip of one long finger pressing down on the fabric covering the crack. He presses against the unforgiving plug still buried in Derek's ass. "For me to replace this with my cock," he answers. "I wanna watch you ride me."

Derek is immediately on board. "Sir…please…" he begs.

"Sit up a bit. I need to get my pants off."

When Derek gets back up on his knees, his ass clenching around the plug, he hears Stiles pulling down the zipper of his chinos and then feels him slide the fabric off of his legs. He only does it once, so he must take his underwear off at the same time. Because he hasn't been given permission to sit back down yet, Derek stays up on his knees even after Stiles settles again. This turns out to be the right decision, because his Dom reaches behind him, pulls aside the back of his panties and grabs the base of the metal plug inside him.

Derek moans when Stiles twists it torturously slowly. "Sir…"

"You're desperate for it, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"Say it."

"I want…"

When Derek's words trail off into another moan, Stiles prompts him to keep going. "Yes?"

"Want your cock."

"Where?"

"In my hole, Sir. Want you to fill me up and come inside me, make it so that I smell like I'm yours for days."

"Yeah? Your needy hole needs to be filled, doesn't it?"

Derek just nods, only just stopping himself from pushing back against the plug to get it to hit his prostate again.

"Well, how can I deny it, then?"

With one final twist, Stiles begins to pull the plug out of Derek's hole. Once his body stretches around the widest part, the rest comes out quickly and leaves Derek empty again. He whimpers softly, a wordless plea to be filled up once more. He hears the squelch of Stiles squeezing out some more lube and then the slick sounds of him spreading it over his cock, and then he gets his wish.

"Scoot forward a bit. Gotta line up."

Once Derek is in position, his knees digging into the back of the sofa, he feels the blunt head of Stiles' cock prodding at his hole. He wants to sink right down on it, but he doesn't. He is a good boy. He stays up on his knees, even when his whole body quivers with need. A few seemingly endless seconds later, Stiles finally gives him permission.

"Have at it, Sourwolf," the Dom murmurs, placing his other hand on Derek's hip.

Faster than is probably advisable, Derek impales himself on Stiles' cock, finally fulfilling the need that has burned through his whole body ever since Stiles blindfolded him. He throws his head back and moans unabashedly when he is filled up in the perfect way that only Stiles' cock can manage. He has had several different things in him during their time together—dildos, anal beads, an anal vibrator, Stiles' tongue and fingers—but nothing compares to Stiles' cock, to the intimate connection he feels when they are joined like this. His Dom allows him to sit in his lap for a couple minutes while he rocks back and forth on his cock, just enjoying the fullness, but then Stiles gets impatient.

"I want a show, Sourwolf," the teenager says heatedly. He gives Derek's ass a swat, leaving behind a pleasant sting.

Derek startles and almost falls off, but his Dom keeps him balanced with the hand he still has curled around his hip. Once he has regained his equilibrium, Derek rises up onto his knees and sinks back down, fucking himself on Stiles' cock. It's slightly awkward at first, because his hands are still bound behind his back and he isn't used to riding Stiles without having full range of movement of his arms, but it doesn't take long for him to get a rhythm going. Both of his Dom's hands are on his hips now, not guiding him but simply resting there, keeping him grounded.

As he rides Stiles, Derek returns to the place where he doesn't have to think. His body moves on its own, chasing the pleasure of Stiles' cock brushing repeatedly against his prostate, making his toes curl and more sweat appear on his tanned skin. The sound of their skin smacking together as Derek shoves himself down harder and harder onto his Dom's cock is obscene in the quiet of the loft. It combines with the moans that pour from both of their mouths.

After a while, Stiles moves one of his hands from Derek's hip and wraps it around his cock, jerking him off as he keeps riding him.

"Come whenever you're ready, Sourwolf," he instructs, his voice deep and husky.

After so long spent on the edge, with so much buildup, Derek barely lasts another minute. His body seizes up as his orgasm washes over him and he shoots his thick seed all over his Dom's torso. It seems to go on forever, the pleasure ratcheting up higher and higher until his body gives out. When it's over, he shakes and finds himself unable to move, but he doesn't even notice. He is too lost in that magical floaty place that he is starting to see more and more as he gets more comfortable with his submission, as he gives himself over to it completely.

It's almost like Derek blacks out. One second his orgasm is finishing and then, when he comes to, he is lying lengthways on the sofa as Stiles pets his hair. The cuffs are gone and, when he cracks open his eyes, he finds out that the blindfold is gone too.

"You did so good, Sourwolf," Stiles whispers, leaning over him to kiss his sweaty temple.

"Y-yeah?" Derek asks, needing further reassurance as he comes down from that floaty place.

"Yeah, you were so good for me. My good boy."

Derek hums contentedly, happy that he has pleased his Dom.

The two of them stay like that for an indeterminate amount of time, until feeling returns to Derek's extremities.

"Think you can walk?" Stiles asks him, cupping his bristly cheek.

"Yeah," Derek responds breathily.

"Up you get, then. I think it's sleepy time for us, hmm?"

Derek takes Stiles' hand and stands up on unsteady legs. His Dom wraps his arm around his waist to keep him from falling, and together they make their way over to the bed. When his head hits the pillow, Derek grins tiredly.

"What's that look for?" Stiles enquires, lying down next to him.

"I'm just happy."

Stiles' eyes are fond as he brings the sheets up over them and pulls Derek into his arms. "My silly Sourwolf."

"Yours…" Derek mumbles, close to falling asleep.

He tucks his nose into Stiles' neck so that he is all he smells. All of the stress from the day is gone, and it's with his heart feeling lighter than air that he closes his eyes again and slips under.

**Author's Note:**

> This took a bit longer to write than I planned, but I'm still very happy with how it turned out. I've never written sounding before, and I've never participated in the act in real life either. I wrote this purely based off of the small bit of research I did. I hope it was realistic enough. Anyway, this PWP continues my new love affair with bottom!Derek. He seems to have been taking over this series recently, I know, but I just can't help myself. Derek bottoming just really does it for me now, even more than Stiles bottoming does. Oh well. :P For those of you who missed bottom!Stiles here, fear not! He will return in my next PWP. Speaking of…
> 
> Stay tuned for my next PWP, in which Stiles does cam shows to make extra money while in college, and Derek is one of his regular viewers. What happens when they meet in real life? Top!Derek/bottom!Stiles.
> 
> **P.S. Don't forget to subscribe to me to be notified when my future fics go live, which will all be Sterek. And please check out my past fics if you haven't already and are interested.**


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